


The Last Kingsguard

by Northern_Lady



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hurt/Comfort, Oaths & Vows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:48:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25870840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern_Lady/pseuds/Northern_Lady
Summary: In this alternate universe Rhaenys Targaryen survives Robert’s Rebellion and is kept safe and hidden Jaime Lannister.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister & Jon Snow, Jaime Lannister & Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia), Jaime Lannister/Catelyn Tully Stark, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Lyra Mormont/Jon Snow, Renly Baratheon/Sansa Stark/Loras Tyrell, Robb Stark/Daenerys Targaryen, Willas Tyrell/Rhaenys Targaryen
Comments: 10
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

It was finally over. Aerys was dead, the sack of King's Landing was done and Eddard Stark had arrived in all his righteousness to claim the throne for Robert Baratheon. Jaime was happy enough to hand the throne over to Stark’s watch. Gods knew Jaime didn’t want to sit on it long enough to rule. Jaime left the throne room and headed back to his rooms with the Kingsguard, not knowing if he would even have a place with the guard after this. Bodies littered the courtyard and hallways of the Red Keep and some of the smallfolk were engaged in looting the remains as he passed. He tried not to look. He has seen enough death and destruction and didn’t want to see it any longer on this day. The pyromancers and the king had been bad enough. Then there had been the bodies of Elia Martell and her children brought in by Ser Gregor and Ser Lorch. The babe with his skull crushed and broken and Rhaenys stabbed half a hundred times, Elia’s clothes torn in such a way that it was clear what Gregor had done to her before her death. It sickened him, all of it. Jaime closed the door to his room and began to remove his armor with an exhaustion like he had never known before. Despite his fatigue, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. 

The last piece of armor was removed and Jaime dropped down onto his bed when he heard a noise, a sniffle just under his bed. He went still, listening for more sounds and heard the faint purring of a cat. Jaime slid off the bed to his knees. He would retrieve the cat and put him out into the hallway. The last thing he needed was some nocturnal cat playing in his room half the night when it was difficult enough to sleep already. But it was not just a cat under his bed. 

“Rhaenys?” Jaime said, recognizing the little princess immediately and her kitten Balerion. How had she survived? And who had been killed in her place? “What are you doing in here?” 

“I got scared…” she said, her voice shaken. 

Jaime could hardly see her. She was curled up on her side and it was dark under his bed. “I can imagine you did. Come on out of there?” 

She shook her head. “No. I can’t. I really can’t.” Balerion made an attempt at getting away from his mistress and the princess let him go. His absence revealed that she had blood on her dress and on her hands. 

“I won’t hurt you,” Jaime told her truthfully. “Come on out?” 

Rhaenys hesitated a moment longer before she crawled out. She pulled herself from beneath the bed and immediately threw her arms around him, weeping. Jaime didn’t know the little princess very well but he was aware that she had always liked him. She had smiled at him in passing countless times and often when he was on duty she would ask him to watch Balerion for her, telling him that cats were part of the royal family too. Jaime had always taken care of her kitten as she asked and had told her each time that he had been a well behaved cat. Now she clung to him, sobbing and traumatized so Jaime hugged her in return. 

“What happened, little Princess?” He asked her when she had exhausted herself with her tears. 

She shook her head and buried her face against his chest, unwilling to speak. 

“I know you’re afraid but I need you to tell me what happened so I can best protect you,” And in truth he would protect her. His father may have wanted her dead and he may have killed Aerys but Rhaenys was just a little girl and he had sworn to Rhaegar that he would protect her. Rhaegar was not like Aerys, he hadn’t been mad. Jaime would protect Rhaegar’s daughter with his life if he had to. 

“The bad knights came and I hid under Father’s bed,” she sniffled. 

“What did the bad knights do?” He pushed. 

She shook her head again, still unwilling to speak. 

“I think I know what they did. How did you escape?” He asked her. 

“I kicked the bad knight and I screamed and his hands were slippery so I got free and I ran. The laundry maid left a cart of bed linens right outside the door and I crawled under the quilts and I stayed bery bery quiet,” she told him, still shaken. 

“That was a very good hiding place,” Jaime said. Had Clegane and Lorch been any smarter they might have found her. It was fortunate for Rhaenys that his father had sent such dimwitted knights. 

“They found my friend Matilda Rivers instead of me,” Rhaenys sobbed, her little voice breaking. 

Jaime remembered that Matilda was the daughter of one of Elia's handmaidens and sometimes a playmate of Rhaenys. The girl didn’t look very much like the princess aside from the shade of her hair. He supposed that must have been why Lorch stabbed her so many times, to make her unrecognizable, or else Lorch hadn’t recognized his mistake and was just brutal because he liked brutality. 

“I’m sorry you have lost your friend. What made you come all the way here?” He asked her, hoping she hadn’t been spotted along the way. 

“I don’t know. I don’t remember. I don’t ‘member how I got here. I think I ran. Matilda was screaming and I ran.” 

“You did the right thing,” he assured her. “Those men would have hurt you too if you had stayed. It will be alright now,” he told her, having no idea how he was going to see to her safety. 

Rhaenys wept against him for a little while longer before Jaime got to his feet and placed her on his bed. She was reluctant to let go but she allowed it all the same. He looked her over with a sigh of sadness. Rhaenys had blood all over her purple dress. Her hair was a mess, there were scratches on her arms, a bruise on her face, blood on her hands and something on her arm that he was almost sure might be brain matter from her infant brother. The child needed a bath, a new dress, and a meal. The castle was full of Lannister men though and it had been his father who had ordered her death. Stark forces were everywhere as well. Men loyal to the new king Robert would not appreciate a surviving Targaryen in their midst. 

Jaime pulled a chair from the corner of his room over near the bed and sat to face her. “There is something you should know,” he told her seriously. She was young but she was smart enough to understand what he needed to tell her. “The war is over and Robert Baratheon won.” 

Rhaenys scowled. “He killed my Father. Mother told me.” She wiped away a stray tear. 

“He did. You know that means that you are not the princess anymore?” 

She nodded. “I know. Mother said that might happen.” 

“That means that you can’t go back to the royal rooms and you can’t go wandering around the castle. There are lots of knights loyal to the new king here now. It isn’t safe.” 

She nodded again, her chin quivering. “What about you Ser? Do you serve the new king too?” 

He knew the answer immediately. It didn’t even require any contemplation in his part. “No. I serve you. I swore to your father that I would protect you and that has not changed. But I am only one knight and I don’t have the power to make you princess again or to give you back your grandfather’s throne. All I can do is keep you safe.” 

Rhaenys looked around the room worriedly. “Then where will I stay?” 

“Right here at the moment,” he told her, not having a better solution. “Can you wait here for a little while? I need to go find you some food and clothes and things.” 

“You’ll come back?” She asked with concern. 

“Of course. I’ll not abandon you, little princess.” 

“You said I’m not the princess anymore,” she reminded him, confused. 

“You are to me,” he said as he made his exit. 

It took Jaime a while to find clothing. In the end he went to the empty chamber of Matilda Rivers and took some of her dresses. The child had been a similar size and wore more common clothing than suited to a princess. He gathered a meal for Rhaenys and headed back to his rooms. He drew a bath for her and realized she was too young to bathe alone and probably had never even tried, being a princess and all. She agreed to try and bathe by herself and managed to get through the whole process while his back was turned. She got a shift on by herself but could not manage the the tangles in her hair. So Jaime combed her hair himself. He sat with her while she ate her meal and then tucked her into his bed, rolling out a mat for himself on the floor. Sleep did not come easily to him. He still had no idea what he should do to keep the little princess safe. 

***

Jaime kept Rhaenys in his room for four days while trying to decide what to do with her. He could try to send her to the last of her family but they were only children too. They were not equipped to take care of her. He could try and send her to the Martells in Dorne but it would be dangerous to do so now. If the Martells were to suddenly acquire the princess they might start a new war to crown her and though Jaime didn’t want a new war, he was more concerned that Rhaenys could be killed as a result. Dorne might not be able to stand against the newly established kingdom. Not alone. He didn’t care who ruled but he did care that she survived somehow. He did not have any friends that he truly trusted enough to hide her. In truth, he knew people who might hide her but he couldn’t be sure they would protect her with their lives, which only left one option. He would have to hide her himself. 

Obviously, Rhaenys could not remain hidden in his room alone forever. It had only been four days and the isolation was already starting to get to her. Even so, he couldn’t risk bringing her out yet. Robert Baratheon had arrived and he and Eddard were making all sorts of plans for the new small council. His Father still remained in the city with all his troops and there was no way that Jaime could bring Rhaenys out without someone noticing. Even if he changed her appearance, she was still too recognizable to go out safely. 

Jaime finally thought of a plan but he worried endlessly that it might not be enough. Even so, he purchased what he needed to see his plan through and he sat down with Rhaenys to explain it to her. 

“Remember I told you I would keep you safe?” He asked her on the fifth day as she ate her supper. “The only way I can do that is if we tell a lie.” 

She looked up at him curiously. “What lie?” 

“The first thing we are going to do is change the color of your hair,” he told her. “This bottle of liquid can make your hair blonde.” 

“Like yours?” 

“Yes, like mine. And after that, you must never tell anyone that your mother was Elia or your father Rhaegar. That has to stay a secret. It’s very dangerous to ever tell anyone you were a princess. Do you understand?” He asked her. 

She nodded. “They will hurt me like they did my mother and baby Aegon,” she said, having never mentioned what she had seen until now. 

“They will,” he told her, hating to have her live with that reality but perhaps the fear would keep her from ever telling the truth. “So if anyone asks you, you are to say that I am your father and that your mother was Lara Sand of Lannisport. Can you do that?” 

“You’re going to be my father now?” She asked him, intrigued. 

“I suppose I am,” he admitted. He had been thinking about it for days and had finally settled on this being the only way. There were enough people living in Lannisport that no one would ever know that Lara Sand was not a real person and a Dornish mother would account for her darker skin. Also the fact that he had visited Casterly Rock a few years back was enough to make the details seem true. “We will need to give you a new name.” 

“Can I be called Bryna?” She asked, almost excitedly. “A lady from the iron islands visited and she carried a sword and she was called Bryna!” 

“Alright,” he agreed with half a smile. “You will be Bryna. I’ll need you to stay in this room a little longer. It isn’t safe to come out yet and we need to practice your new name and answering questions that people might ask. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright. Will you read me a story?” 

“I will,” he agreed. He was already bored with reading children’s stories the past few days but he would do it anyway. Robert had taken to calling him Kingslayer. People whispered about him having no honor as often as they openly disdained him. His duty in protecting the daughter of Rhaegar brought him comfort. He was not what they believed him to be. He still had honor enough to keep the child of the dragon safe. Keeping her safe sometimes meant making her feel safe and if that took reading her a story then he would do that too. 

***

It was nearly three weeks before Robert even mentioned the swearing in of his Kingsguard. They were sitting down to dinner, Ned and Robert and a few others while Jaime stood guard along the wall. 

“Kingslayer, we’ll need to have you sworn in,” Robert commented. Ned Stark scowled. 

“I can’t see the point,” Jaime spoke up before Ned could say anything. 

“Neither can I,” Ned agreed. 

“Oh don’t be so dour, Ned,” Robert scolded him. “Someone had to kill the mad King. If Jaime hadn’t done it then you might have been stuck with the unlucky job yourself when you arrived.” 

“I wasn’t sworn to protect him,” Ned pointed out unhelpfully. 

“No but we were all sworn to serve him as Lords of the kingdom. Let it go Ned,” Robert said. “How about tomorrow, Kingslayer? That seems as good a time as any for vows.” 

“I will serve as you wish but there would be no point in swearing vows that I’ve already broken,Your Grace,” Jaime told him. 

“I told you, I don’t give two shits about any of that,” Robert argued. 

“I have a daughter,” Jaime explained. “The vows are broken. I will serve as a household guard if you wish or some other position but I only learned of my bastard daughter a few days ago and if I do not take her in she would be orphaned and penniless. I ask to be released from any vows, your grace? ” He waited on edge to see how Robert would react to that. He could not swear loyalty to one crown while he still served another in secret. He simply could not. And this announcement of his daughter was necessary so that he could bring her out of hiding. 

“You’d rather parent some bastard daughter than remain in the kingsguard?” Robert asked, both amused and insulted. 

Jaime did not reply to that question. He didn’t have to. Ned spoke instead. “Perhaps it is best that he see to his daughter. There is no dishonor in that.” 

“Fine but I’ll have to give him something to do. He is too good a sword to waste on hiding away at Casterly Rock,’ Robert said. “Lannister, you’ll be Master at Arms here at the Red Keep. I want you here for a few years, maybe five, maybe ten and then you can go home to your Rock in the west. By then you’ll be too old to be of as much use with a sword but you can still be a lord. Tywin should be happy with that.” 

“Yes, your grace,” Jaime agreed, relieved to have been freed of swearing vows to Robert. “Thank you, your grace.” 

“Yes, yes, go see to your daughter and come back at the end of the week after you are settled in the Master at Arms apartments,” Robert instructed. 

***

Jaime’s new rooms offered more space than his Kingsguard chambers. He was granted a bedchamber, a privy, small solar, and a room that the former Master had used as an office. Jaime removed the desk and bookshelves from the room and instead put in a bed and wardrobe cabinet for Bryna. She liked the new bedchamber but did not like her new hair color. When she first saw it in the looking glass she cried. 

“It’s a little like your father Rhaegar’s hair isn’t it?’ He reminded her, trying to bring her comfort. 

“No, his was silver. I remember. Now my mother’s hair is gone,” she said, biting her lip. 

Jaime picked her up and hugged her as a knock sounded at the door. He carried her with him to answer the knock. 

“Father?” Jaime said, not expecting a visit from his father at all. “Come in.” 

His father stepped into the room and closed the door, leaving his household guards in the hallway. 

“So this is my supposed grandchild?” Tywin asked, unamused. 

“This is Bryna,” Jaime said, he tried to put her down so she could turn and look at Tywin but the girl clung to him and refused to move. 

“I have heard before I came here that the girl’s mother was Lara Sands of Lannisport but my messages sent to research the matter turned up the existence of no such person,” Tywin said with an air of accusation. 

“There are a lot of people in Lannisport.” 

“There are indeed but you have not spent a lot of time in that area in recent years. In fact, Cersei assures me that the last time you visited Casterly Rock five years ago you did not leave the castle even once,” Tywin said. 

“Cersei doesn’t own me, nor was she with me every moment of my visit,” Jaime argued, putting Bryna on her feet for the first time. 

Tywin looked down at the child and looked her over with disapproval. “She does not resemble you. She resembles the Dornish to be sure but not the Lannisters.” 

Jaime glared at his father, having nothing to say. He had not planned for this scenario. 

“Who is she really?” Tywin asked. “You are my son, I know you well enough that you had no real interest in women when you were sixteen. Who is she?” 

“You’re right,” Jaime said, knowing his father would never believe the lie. He’d just have to offer a better lie. “I didn’t have any interest in women or betrothals. I never wanted to marry. I was happy to join the kingsguard for that reason. But Ser Arthur Dayne was a man of honor and served his king right up until the end. I took in his daughter as my own to protect his honor and gain an heir without the trouble of marriage. I won’t marry, father, and no one can know that Dayne did not keep his vows.” 

Tywinn looked at Brynna a second time and then nodded. “Fine. I will accept that you have adopted this daughter and I will say nothing of her true father. In exchange, you will consider the possibility of a betrothal when your service to king Robert is ended.” 

“I just said that I will not marry,” Jaime protested. 

“I have no particular affection for House Dayne. If you wish me to keep your secret you will do as I ask,” Tywinn said. 

“I suppose I could consider it,” Jaime agreed. 

***

Surprisingly, Tywin did not tell Cersei of his conversation with Jaime. He kept the secret and allowed Cersei to believe that Bryna was truly Jaime’s daughter. She eventually came to see him and accuse him of the very thing she had told her father he had not done. 

“How did you manage to sneak out that night?” Cersei demanded. 

For a moment, Jaime very nearly told his sister the truth. He hadn’t left the castle. Bryna was not his daughter. “You told father that I didn’t leave,” he reminded her. “Now you’re remembering it differently?” 

“I told father what he needed to hear. He was already upset enough that you killed the king and destroyed the family honor,” Cersei said accusingly. “So why did you do it? Did you love that Dornish woman?” 

“There’s only one woman I’ve ever loved. You know that, Cersei.” 

“And what about Bryna? She’ll be a woman someday. Then there will be two women you love,” There was venom in her tone. 

“She’s a child. It’s hardly the same as-” Jaime began but his sister cut him off. 

“You’re wrong Jaime. Someday when I have children, I will do anything for them. Wouldn’t you?” 

Jaime glanced at the half open door of the chamber where Rhaenys slept. “Yes,” he admitted. 

Cersei’s face contorted in anger. “I’ll be married in a week and you won’t be seeing me again. Not like we used to. Goodbye Jaime.” 

***

In the days and weeks that followed, Rhaenys settled into her life with her kingsguard protector. She called him father in public but in private she remained aware of who she truly was. Often she had nightmares and Jaime would sit with her and hug her until she fell back asleep. He found a handmaid to care for Bryna while he went about his daily duties, a handmaid who was mute. He couldn’t risk that the child might say something to endanger herself and that the handmaid might not keep it secret. A handmaid unable to speak seemed the best solution. The arrangement seemed to work well enough and as far as he could tell, no one suspected the truth. 

One evening after Jaime had ended his duties and the handmaid had been dismissed, he sat teaching Bryna her letters and she stopped writing to ask him a question. 

“Someday can I use a sword like Visenya?” she asked him. 

“Is that something you want?” he asked her, a little surprised. 

She nodded. “Bad knights hurt my mother. If I learn to use a sword then they can’t hurt me too.” 

“Rhaenys,” he said, using her name in this rare instance. “I won’t let anyone hurt you but if you want to learn to use a sword you’ll need to be a little taller and stronger first.” 

“So when I’m older you’ll teach me?” 

“If you still want that, yes,” he agreed. 

***

Rhaenys was fourteen when Jaime was finally released from service to return home to Casterly Rock. She was a beauty like her mother and like the Targaryen queens before her. She knew by then how to read, write, sew, how to dye her own hair, and how to use a sword better than any maiden her age had any right to. She was skilled enough that she had wanted to go with Jaime when he fought in the Greyjoy rebellion but he had forbidden it. He returned to the camp at Lannisport along with the rest of the troops, including the Ned Stark, and was granted his freedom to return to the Rock. 

Rhaenys ran to meet him in the center of the camp where the returning men had gathered for a feast. She threw her arms around him for a hug and he lifted her off her feet in return. 

“Where have you come from?” Jaime asked, stunned to meet her here. 

“I came to find you,” she told him as she hugged him. He knew her well enough to realize this was not just some rebellion to join the war effort. Something was upsetting her. There were tears in her eyes and she hugged him almost fearfully. 

“All alone?” He asked, upset that she would make a journey like this all by herself. 

She nodded with a smiffle and he let her down to her feet. 

“Your daughter wears a sword?” Stark said, catching sight of them. 

“Of course she does,” Jaime said without explaining. The wearing of the sword had also gained him Cersei’s contempt as well. The two of them hadn’t actually spoken in years until Rhaenys was trained in a blade enough to carry one. Then his sister had sought him out to rage her disapproval. It was odd that Stark seemed to agree with Cersei. 

“You taught her yourself?” Ned continued. 

“Well I was Master at Arms. Training people in the use of swords is what I do,” he reminded Ned. 

“I only meant that...my sister Lyana had an interest in swords. I tried to help her learn but she lacked the strength for a broadsword and I know too little about the Bravosi method. What method did you teach your daughter?” 

“I don’t know, I suppose I created my own. We found a sword that fit her and practiced until we found a strategy to suit her,” Jaime explained. 

“I will have to remember that,” Ned said thoughtfully. 

After the feast was ended, Jaime and Bryna were nearly back to his tent when he realized that Bryna walked with a hitch in her step. She was hurt. 

“What happened?” He asked as he pulled back the tent flap. “You’re hurt.” 

“No I’m… I fell from my horse on the way here. I’m fine.” 

“Not that I’m not glad to see you, but why did you come all the way here?” Jaime asked her. 

“There was a man from Dorne. He came to the Red Keep and kept asking me lots of questions about when I was born and who my mother is and how long had I been cared for by my father...I tried to ignore him. I tried to hide from him. He wouldn’t go away. I think he knew that…” she trailed off. They didn’t often speak of her true parents but she had not forgotten who she was. “I was afraid to stay, so I left.” 

“Who was this man from Dorne? Did he have a name?” Jaime asked with concern. 

“Oberon,” she told him. “I assume Oberon Martell but I did not ask.” 

“You probably had no reason to fear your Uncle,” Jaime said truthfully. Oberon would never harm Elia’s daughter. 

She shook her head and crossed her arms across herself protectively. “I still remember, you know? I remember what they did to my mother and brother.” 

“You never talk about it. I wasn’t sure you did.” 

“It’s one of my earliest memories, that and you calling me little princess. I don’t want anyone finding out who I am. Everyone is happy to serve king Robert except maybe the Greyjoys. I see no reason that I should risk dying like she did.” 

“You will never die like she did,” Jaime told her. “Not unless I die first. I would never allow it. The Martells would never allow it either if they knew. Perhaps it’s time they do know the truth.” 

“No…” she shook her head emphatically. “No one can know. Not ever.” 

“We will say nothing if you don’t want to,” Jaime assured her. “But the Martells would keep your secret and if they already suspect it might make sense just to tell them.” 

Rhaenys bit her lip. She hugged herself tighter, shaken. “I hid under my father’s bed and watched while my brother had his skull crushed and my mother was raped and murdered. I didn’t even fully understand until years later what had even happened. I didn’t even understand until later that it was you who killed my grandfather and ended the Targaryen reign.” 

“Rhaenys I…” he began, using her true name as he rarely did. 

“Don’t be sorry for that. He was Mad. Everyone is safer with him gone. I was afraid of him as a child anyway and I have never blamed you for doing what needed to be done on his account. Once he was gone, you kept me safe. You didn’t make vows to king Robert and I never doubted that you were loyal to me. I don’t need to be queen and I don’t want to be queen. I just don’t want to die like my mother did. I have always feared that would happen someday.” 

Jaime reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. “Rhaenys, I am sorry that you have grown up in fear for your life and lived in the shadow of the man who killed your father. I know how you avoid King Robert and how you both fear and hate him. You have every right to that sentiment. And though I fought for him against the Greyjoys, I hope you know that I would slay another king if he ever thought to harm you.” 

Rhaenys began to cry at those words and she stepped closer to hug him again. Jaime hugged the small girl close to himself. She had been both a daughter to him and a princess. He would not allow anyone to hurt her, not even Robert.


	2. Chapter 2

When the marriage offers started coming, Bryna refused every one. Jaime didn’t question it or even ask her why. He didn’t need to. Her earliest memory was of the rape and murder of her mother. Of course she didn’t want to marry or ever give a man that sort of power over her. She continued refusing offers of marriage just as often as Jaime refused his own. Tywin wanted the lord of Casterly Rock to marry and Jaime resisted the idea at every turn. It wasn’t that he didn’t care for women. He simply wanted no distractions in his duty to Rhaenys. 

“You’re rejecting that one too?” Tyrion said as he entered Jaime’s solar at Casterly Rock. Jaime had just been tossing a note into the fireplace. “Is that one for you or for Bryna?” 

“For Bryna.” 

“It’s strange. Most maids who are past twenty years old are already married. Is there no one in all the seven kingdoms she is willing to have?” Tyrion asked as he seated himself and poured some wine. 

“I will not force her to marry,” Jaime said simply. 

“I imagine not. I don’t think you’ve ever insisted that the girl do anything.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jaime asked. 

“Only that some people are saying your daughter is spoiled by her father at every turn,” Tyrion explained. “Everyone gives their daughters in marriage. I don’t see why yours should be any different. Even if she is adopted.” 

“Father told you about that?” 

“In a moment of anger, yes. I’ve known for years. I never quite understood why though,” Tyrion commented. 

“I can’t force her to marry because her earliest memory is the rape and murder of her own mother,” Jaime explained. 

“I suppose that makes sense,” Tyrion was taken aback. “What doesn’t make sense is why she dyes her hair blond.” 

Jaime let out a deflated sigh. Tyrion was too smart for his own good. 

“Or why she seems so skittish of our good king Robert. Or why her smile looks like a replica of Elia Martell’s smile every time I see it,” Tyrion commented dryly. 

“Tyrion…” Jaime began, anger in his tone. “Do not stray into topics that you know nothing about.” 

“So I was right? You’ve protected the Targaryen Princess all this time.” 

“I swore to Rhaegar that I would keep his family safe. This was all I could do. No one can know. Not one soul. Promise me. Swear it!” 

Tyrion raised a hand in surrender. “Of course, I swear it. But if I’ve figured out, perhaps others will too. You need to find out who is loyal to her in case that happens. I think you should tell Father.” 

“Seven hells, no. Father might see her as competition to Cersei’s three children. I can’t risk it.” 

“Cersei’s children are imbeciles. The oldest is anyhow. Power hungry like his mother and with as little aptitude for ruling as his father. If Robert doesn’t drink and whore the kingdoms into poverty then Steffon will. The two daughters are alright I suppose. I don’t think father would be opposed to some sort of compromise that might involve a marriage or an appointment as hand.” Tyrion suggested. 

“Tyrion, just forget what you know and live your life as if you didn’t know it,” Jaime told him. 

“Fine,” Tyrion agreed. 

***

When word came that John Aryn was dead, that announcement was followed by a letter from the king demanding that Jaime accompany the king’s party as they traveled north to Winterfell. The king had matters to discuss with Ser Jaime on the journey and he had need of extra knights for the trip. 

Jaime was not surprised when Rhaenys asked to go with him on his trip North. 

“It’s a long way and the North is cold,” Jaime reminded her. 

“You could be gone for months or a year. It’s not...it’s not safe here,” she said worriedly. 

“Rhae, my father means you no harm. He believes you are the daughter of Arthur Dayne and he has no ill will against the Daynes. Casterly Rock is safe,” he assured her. 

“Is it? If someone were to learn the truth while you were away, would Casterly Rock protect me from the wrath of the king?” 

Jaime hesitated to answer. 

“That’s why I need to come with you. I’m alright with a sword but no one is as good as you. Please?” she asked. 

For a moment there was fear in her eyes and he remembered that same look on her face when she had been a little girl sitting on his bed covered in the blood of her murdered family. He forgot sometimes that she still carried that fear with her and she still saw him as the gallant kingsguard who swore to protect the Targaryen Princess with his life.

“Alright,” he agreed. “You may come with me.” He never really refused her anything before anyway. 

***

By the time they met King Robert on the road and Robert had explained that he wanted Jaime to be warden of the east for a time, Bryna was already sick of the attention from the men on the road. She was a beautiful young woman after all and she was the bastard daughter of a powerful lord. As such, some of the Knights saw her as a prize to be won. It took only two days for Robert himself to notice her beauty. 

“That daughter of yours is still unmarried?” Robert asked Jaime over dinner. 

“She prefers it that way,” Jaime replied dryly. 

Robert glanced in her direction where she sat further down the table speaking with a few of the handmaids and camp followers in the party. 

“She’s prettier than all of them. A woman like her won’t be able to stay unmarried forever.” 

Jaime didn’t like the way Robert was looking at her. An encounter of that sort with Robert would only traumatize Rhae even further and might end in Robert’s death. 

“She carries a sword, She can remain unmarried for as long as she likes,” Jaime reminded him. 

Robert laughed at that and seemingly let the matter drop. Except Robert would never let a pretty woman get away from him so easily. In the weeks that followed he found multiple excuses to speak to Bryna. He complimented her beauty, praised her horsemanship, offered her gifts, and even asked her on a hunt, an invitation which she declined. In the privacy of their tent, Rhae broke down into tears over the invitation to join the hunt. She was disgusted and horrified and more than that she was afraid. 

“What if he doesn’t accept no as an answer next time?” she asked Jaime, wiping away her angry tears. “I can’t do what he wants. I can’t. I won’t.” 

“Of course not,” Jaime agreed. He was genuinely worried how this might play out. If Robert pushed Bryna too far she might just try to defend herself and if she managed to kill Robert there was no telling if the people would support her claim. But Robert had plenty of men to guard him. Odds were that Bryna would not survive. “Allow me to find out if we have any allies here?” 

“Allies?” 

“Ser Barristan Selmy. He served your father and he has always been an honorable man. If we asked it of him, I think he would help you should a moment come that we needed him to. He would at least keep your secret. He is loyal enough for that. I’m sure of it.” 

Barriston was reluctant to come and speak with Jaime in his tent. The two of them had not been on friendly terms since the rebellion. He went with Jaime anyhow and ducked under the tent flap when Rhae let him in. 

“What is this all about, Lannister?” Barristan asked. 

“I asked you here because I need your help. In truth, Princess Rhaenys of House Targaryen needs your help,” Jaime looked to Rhae as he said the words. 

Barriston understood the implications and for a moment he stood there stunned. “All this time?” he asked Jaime. 

Jaime nodded, “All this time.” 

At that Barriston bent the knee and knelt before her. “How may I serve you, my lady?” 

“Rise Ser,” she told him, unaccustomed to being treated like royalty anymore. 

“All we need is assistance in helping her escape Robert’s attentions,” Jaime explained. “You must have seen how he pursues her of late. She has no wish to be anywhere near the man who killed her father.” 

“And yet she spent all these years with the man who murdered her grandfather?” Selmy asked. 

“I was told that my grandfather said he would have me burned if I brought my kitten into the throneroom and he said that when Aegon cried that he hated the noise and wished to smother him. The Mad King was not a good king. Ser Jaime has kept me safe all these years and I have no reason not to forgive him,” Rhae explained. 

“Will you help us or not?” Jaime asked. 

Barriston nodded. “I will. I will interfere should it come to that but I think it would be best to send the lady away from the King’s party. Perhaps back to Casterly Rock or East to the Vale to await your arrival there later Ser.” 

“I can’t send her alone. Robert won’t let me leave any easier than he would allow you to leave.” 

“It would be simpler if she had a husband,” Barriston commented. “Or a betrothed. We could send for him to escort her home. Is there no way to make such arrangements now?” 

Jaime was about to argue that Rhae had no wish to marry but something in the look on her face stopped him. There was hesitation in her features. “Is there a way? Is there someone you would consider?” 

“Only one man but he never asked. All the offers for my hand came and he never sent one,” she said with sadness. 

“Who?” Jaime asked, a little surprised that she was smitten with anyone at all. 

“Willas Tyrell,” she said, deflated. 

It almost made sense. Willas had visited the previous year along with the Tyrell master of horse to purchase horses from Casterly Rock. The young man had an interest in the breeding of horses and had spent a month as a guest at the castle. Somehow Jaime had been unaware that Rhae had enjoyed his company. He could see now why she had. Willas was well read, kind, and not inclined to treat women unfairly just for being a woman. However Jaime knew as well as Rhae did that Tyrells did not want a bastard daughter for the lord of Highgarden. She wasn’t quite highborn enough. That was why no offer had been sent. 

“I could send an offer,” Jaime told her. 

She shook her head. “No. He would have sent one already if his family had allowed it. They didn’t.” 

Jaime raised an eyebrow. “Am I to infer then that he expressed an interest in you while he visited the Rock?” 

“Yes,” Rhae brushed away an angry tear. “We spent a lot of time talking, only talking. He cared for me and I cared for him but he knew his family would never approve.” 

“Perhaps he is the sort to rescue maidens in distress,” Selmy suggested. “If the lady sent a request asking for his help, would that be enough to defy his family anyhow?” 

“I am not some damsel in distress,” Rhae protested. 

“You’re not,” Jaime agreed. “Not yet anyhow but it could come to that if we don’t do something now. Do you think Willas cared enough to come for you with Tyrell forces if you asked it of him?” 

“He would but his father wouldn’t allow it.” 

“His father would allow it if he knew the truth. I will write the letter and I will hide it away. If the moment comes that I need to send it, I will send it. In the meantime we need to keep you away from Robert as much as possible.” 

***

The party made it all the way to Winterfell without having an incident with Robert. The king hadn’t given up his pursuit but Rhae had perfected the art of avoiding and rebuffing him. The first night of feasting at Winterfell had Robert so drunk that he pulled Bryna into his lap as she passed by his table. Ned Stark sat across from Robert and the Northern man could not hide the disgust on his face. When the king placed his hand on Bryna’s breast, Jaime reached for his sword. Stark raised a hand to stop Jaime who sat at his side then he turned to Robert. 

“Robert, the girl is half your age. Let her go,” Ned said, sounding more annoyed than angry. It was apparently the right tone to take because the king laughed and let Bryna go. 

After the feast, after Jaime had drank a great deal and the hour was late, Stark came knocking on the door to Jaime’s room. “What were you thinking, Lannister? You very nearly drew your sword on the king. Do you enjoy slaying kings?” 

“No, but I do take a certain satisfaction in killing evil men,” Jaime said truthfully. 

“Robert isn’t evil. He has his flaws but none of them are borne of malice.” 

“There’s no malice in forcing himself on a woman who doesn’t want him?” Jaime asked. 

“He let her go. Sometimes words are more useful than swords. I hope you’ll remember that next time.” 

“That’s the problem. You and I both know there will be a next time. And Bryna isn’t going to give him what he wants without a fight nor would I expect her to. Would you if it were your daughter?” Jaime wondered if Stark was all that different from himself in the end. 

Ned thought about his words a moment. “I would not,” he agreed. “Have you considered sending her away?” 

“I don’t have a safe place to send her to.” 

“Surely Casterly Rock or your post at the Vale would be safe enough,” Stark argued. 

Jaime didn’t reply to that. The hour was late and he was too tired for his usual wit and he was possibly a little bit drunk. “There is no way to explain to you Stark the danger that…” he trailed off. 

“What danger is she in?” Ned asked, believing that Jaime had spoken the truth. 

“A lot of danger,” was all he could say. 

“Why?” Ned continued his questioning. 

“I’m tired. I don’t have to answer these questions,” Jaime protested. 

“You’re a guest in my home. If you have brought danger with you then I have a right to know about it.” 

“I haven’t brought danger. I’m just suffering from excessive worry,” Jaime tried as explanation. 

Stark narrowed his eyes suspiciously and then gave in. “Fine. Just hold off on the sword next time until I’ve spoken to Robert.” 

***

The pounding on his bedchamber door woke Jaime too early in the morning. He had been at Winterfell nearly a fortnight and drank far too much at the feast the previous night. He ignored the pain in his head and stumbled out of bed to get the door. Rhae stood on the other side. Her face was covered in tears and her wet hair was wrapped in a towel. 

“We have a problem,” she said as she entered his room and shut the door. “My hair dye didn’t work.” Rhae pulled the towel from her partially wet hair and revealed that her long locks were colored their natural dark brown. 

“How did that happen?” 

“I don’t know,” she said worriedly. “I know that the bottle was left in the hot sun during our journey once and when I opened it the smell was wrong but I never thought it would do this.” 

“Nor I,” Jaime agreed. “You will remain here and I will go to wintertown and see if I can find another bottle.” 

Wintertown wasn’t particularly large and it didn’t take Jaime long to check every shop that might have what he was looking for. In truth though, no one in the north wanted to be blond. They had dye for black hair and red hair but none for blond. He returned to Rhae empty handed. 

“They didn’t have it?” she asked as soon as he returned. “What will we do now?” 

“I don’t know. We need an explanation for the change. Perhaps you dyed it brown to escape the attention of the king?” 

“I suppose that will have to do,” she agreed. 

The change in haircolor had the very opposite effect on King Robert. At the feast that night he declared that Bryna had the hair of Lyanna Stark. She left the feast before it was ended followed by Jaime and Ser Barriston. Ned Stark caught up to them in the hallway just minutes later. 

“We need to speak privately,” Ned told them. “In my chambers. The walls are thick enough there that no one will hear what I have to say.” 

The three of them felt out of place in Ned’s personal bedchambers but they said nothing on the matter. 

“I am aware Ser Jaime that you were in Wintertown this morning seeking blonde hair dye. I am also aware that you and Ser Barristion both see to the protection of Lady Bryna. I was there Ser Jaime when you refused to swear oaths to Robert because you had a daughter. I didn’t realize the truth of it until now. She’s not your daughter. She is Rhaegar’s.” Ned said simply. 

“If you believe that, what are you going to do about it?” Jaime asked in a challenging tone. 

“She is not the last of the Targaryens. There are others with a better claim than hers. And I fought a war to put Robert on the throne. But I wish no harm on the children of the dragon. I will not see her killed by Robert or by anyone if I can help it. If there is some place she can go, I will send an escort of Stark men to get her there,” Ned offered. 

“There’s no need,” Rhae spoke up. “I wrote to Willas Tyrell days ago. He is coming for me.” 

***

Rhae couldn’t sleep at night for thinking about her letter from Willas. She had told him most of the truth. She had told him she was at Winterfell and needed to leave because the king showered her in inappropriate attention and she didn’t want to see her father hurt trying to protect her. She asked him for an escort home. Willas had written back that he would come for her with some of the Tyrell men and see to it that she remained safe. He told her he was at her service and would do anything he asked and signed it, with love. She had already decided that once he arrived she would tell him the truth of who she was. She wanted him to know because she loved him. 

After the letter came from Willas another came from Mace Tyrell with an offer of betrothal. It seemed that his son had taken fifty of the Tyrell men without his permission and apparently planned to marry Bryna if she would have him. Rather than let it become an abduction like that of Lyana Stark, Mace requested that a betrothal be arranged. Jaime replied that a betrothal was exactly what he and Bryna wanted. 

Then at breakfast Robert had something to say on the matter. “What is this I hear about fifty men of the Tyrell forces headed north for Winterfell?” 

“They are coming to retrieve Bryna for her betrothal to Willas Tyrell, your grace.” Jaime told him. 

“So she is to marry after all?” Robert commented. “How did you get her to agree to that?” 

“Willas visited the Rock last year. The two of them got along well. It took no convincing on my part,” Jaime explained. 

“She’d rather have a crippled scholar for a husband than a knight and a warrior?” Robert scoffed. “I heard she had offers from the Martells and house Tully and House Plumm. Hells, even Renly was offered up as a suitor. Women make no sense whatsoever.” 

Jaime knew Robert was just angry that Bryna was now betrothed. It meant that his pursuits of her would be seen as an insult to house Tyrell. “It’s a good match,” Jaime settled on as a reply. 

“Lots of people are good matches and end up hating each other,” Robert commented bitterly. 

“And plenty don’t,” Ned added. 

“Of course you and Catlyn are happy,” Robert argued. “There is nothing else to do here in the north but make a few more heirs when you get bored.”

“You have plenty of heirs yourself, trueborn and not,” Jaime reminded him unhelpfully. 

“Shut up Kingslayer or I might decide to remove the ban on first night,” the king spat the words. 

Jaime stiffened where he sat. The king was speaking of the ancient right of kings to spend the wedding night with any bride he wanted. It had been against the law for years. Jaime’s hand rested on the pommel of his sword. “Is that a threat, your grace?” 

“His grace is drunk,” Ned spoke up. “Let it be.” 

Jaime was almost sure that Robert was not drunk. He shifted in his chair a bit and Ned repeated the admonition. “Let it be.” 

It was Ned’s house. Jaime was in no position to defy the lord of the castle and the king so he let the matter rest. 

***

Two things happened when Willas Tyrell arrived and both of them concerned Jaime greatly for entirely different reasons. First of all, he could see right away that Rhaenys was deeply in love with Willas Tyrell. The young man arrived and Rhaenys greeted him with a bashful smile unlike he had ever seen on her face. Just by the way she looked at the young Tyrell Jaime could see that she loved him and it meant she was truly leaving him. He had thought of her as a daughter and found the idea of her leaving to marry hurt more than he had expected. Secondly, Ned sent a servant the same day as Willas arrived to ask Jaime to come meet with him in his solar. He didn’t know why Ned would do that unless he had some information about Robert’s plans, probably information that put Rhaenys in even greater danger. 

Jaime took the seat and the wine that Ned offered and waited for the man to explain why he had been invited there. 

“As you know I am going south to be Robert’s Hand,” Ned began uncomfortably. 

“I had heard.” 

“My daughters will be going with me and my son Bran. I needed to ask that when you go to the Vale as warden of the east that you take Jon Snow with you as your squire,” Ned said. 

“Why?” Jaime asked. It wasn’t that he was opposed to the idea, the request was simply unexpected. 

“He can’t stay here. Catlyn won’t allow it. He wanted to join the Night’s Watch but there is no future for him there. The truth is, you are not the only person to hide a child of Rhaegar’s by disguising them as your own bastard child,” Ned explained, worriedly. 

“What?” Jaime could hardly believe this. “Jon Snow is Rhaegar’s?” 

Ned nodded with a grimace. “And Lyanna’s. She had just given birth when we arrived at the Tower of Joy. I promised her that I would keep him safe but I can’t do that if I am leaving him. I think your loyalty is to the children of Rhaegar, is it not?” 

“It is. It always has been,” Jaime admitted. 

“Robert wants to kill the Targaryens in Essos. I doubt he would hesitate if he knew there were two others right under his nose,” Ned explained. “Jon is good with a blade and could be a great knight someday if given the chance. I can’t give him the throne without endangering my own family but I can give him a chance at life better than the Wall. Help me with that and as Hand I will do everything I can to keep Robert from realizing who Bryna is.” 

Jaime only had to think about it for a moment. “It’s a fair trade. I’ll let him be my squire.” 

***

It was decided that the Tyrells would travel south with the King’s party and Jaime would go with them to Highgarden for Bryna’s wedding. Then he would head east for the Vale. Days were spent riding. Often Bryna rode alongside Willas and Jon Snow alternated between riding alongside his father or with Jaime. One day there was some sort of argument between Steffon and the Stark girls. One of their direwolves was caged for the duration of the journey after that and Cersei went about scowling for days. 

Jaime found that he didn’t know what to make of Jon Snow. The lad was quiet and melancholy most of the time. He rarely smiled and he rarely spoke unless it was in defense of his sister Arya. After a fortnight Jaime came up alongside Jon Snow late one evening as the lad soaked his feet in a cool stream not far from camp. 

“It’s a warm night,” Jaime commented, removing his own boots. A cool stream in this heat wasn’t such a bad idea. 

“Aye,” Jon agreed. 

“You never have much to say, do you?” 

“Can’t see the point. No one much cares what bastards have to say,” Jon said. 

“That’s why you’re like this? Because lady Stark is cruel to the Stark bastard?” Jaime asked, the words just slipping out as they often did with him. 

Jon gave him a look of irritation and disbelief but he said nothing. 

“It’s a poor excuse for silence,” Jaime continued. “Why not just admit that you’re like other northerners, quiet it because you prefer it that way?” 

“Tyrion said something similar,” Jon said absently. “He said I should embrace being a bastard.” 

“Ned never told you?” Jaime realized that Jon had no idea who his true parents were. 

“Never told me what?” 

“Your true parentage.” 

“You know who my mother was?” Jon asked, suddenly interested in the topic. 

“It’s not my place to tell you,” Jaime said, he disliked that Stark had left him in this position. “You should ask Ned about that.” 

“I have asked him. He won’t tell me anything. If you know the truth, why hide it? It’s just some woman’s name. It’s not as if we can offend lady Stark way out here. What could possibly be so wrong with telling me?” 

For a moment Jaime considered giving Jon the truth but how would Jon react to it? Would he continue brooding or would he go and confront Ned for his lie? A confrontation like that in the crowded camp could mean his life. “Not here,” Jaime said. “It’s not something that can be spoken of here. After we leave the king in the capital, then I will tell you.” 

***


	3. Chapter 3

It was a relief to be rid of the King’s party and his sister. Jaime was content enough to continue on to Highgarden with the Tyrells and the few Lannister men he had brought along. That first evening when they set up camp Jon Snow joined him at the fireside and Jaime knew why. 

“I asked him one last time before he left. He still wouldn’t tell me,” Jon said sullenly as he sat down at the fire. “Will you? Or have you changed your mind?” 

“I have not but the truth is not what you imagine,” Jaime looked around to see that everyone else in the camp was distant enough not to hear them. “Ned Stark is not your father by blood.” 

“What?” 

“You are a Stark but only by your mother, Lyanna. Your father was Rhaegar Targaryen.” Jaime told him. There it was done with. The lad had truth now and it could not be taken back. 

“But that’s…” Jon started and then stopped again, in shock, his mouth agape. “Why would he…?” 

“Because Robert would have killed you,” Jaime explained. “His lie was to keep you safe. I told a similar lie myself. Bryna is not my daughter by blood. I adopted her long ago but first she was my charge as kingsguard. She is also your sister, Rhaenys Targaryen.” 

Jon looked across the camp where Rhae sat laughing with Willas at another campfire. “Does she know?” 

“About you? Not yet. I’m not sure if Willas knows about her yet either. I haven’t had a chance to speak with her privately since we left Winterfell. It will all come to light soon. Then we have a few weeks before we reach Highgarden for you to know her.” 

“I think I should like that, especially if my Stark sisters are truly my cousins, then Rhaenys is the only sister left to me,” Jon said, still brooding over what he had just learned but also accepting it. 

***

Late the next morning Jon had his first chance to speak with Rhaenys. She was pouring water over the campfire as everyone was in the process of packing up the camp to resume their journey. Jaime had spoken to her first and then wandered away. Jon assumed he had told her the news. 

“Good morning,” Jon said, a bit awkwardly. “I don’t know if Ser Jaime told you but…” 

“He did,” she said, putting the empty water pail on the ground. Then she crossed the distance between them and hugged him. Jon was surprised by the hug but he hugged her in return all the same. 

When she stepped away from him she had both tears on her face and a smile. “I’m glad he told me and that you’re here. A long time ago I watched my baby brother being murdered. I never thought I’d have a chance to have another baby brother.” 

“I’m not exactly a baby,” Jon said with a smile of his own. 

Rhae laughed and she hugged him a second time. This time when she pulled away from him she waved over Willas Tyrell. “Have you met Willas?” 

“We met at Winterfell,” Willas said, a little concerned about her crying. 

“We did,” Jon agreed, though in truth he really hadn’t talked to the man much at all. 

“Yes, but it turns out that Jon Snow is my brother. Half brother.” she explained. 

Willas looked confused. 

“You can not make it known,” Rhae continued. “We have the same father. His mother was Lyanna Stark.”

Understanding dawned on Willas. “Right. Of course. I will say nothing.” The man smiled a little. “You will stay at Highgarden a little while after the wedding? As our guest?” 

“If Ser Jaime allows it. I am to Squire for him,” Jon explained. 

“Then I will invite him as well,” Willas said. 

***

The following days were some of the happiest that Rhae and Jon had ever known. Days were spent riding and telling stories. Evenings were spent laughing and drinking around the fire. Jon had never felt like an equal among any group of people until then. Rhaenys felt less fear than she had in all her life. She had her betrothed and her brother and her kingsguard by her side and she had all the Tyrell forces at his command. King Robert could not kill her so easily now. 

As they made their way further southwest, they met a party of Lannister men coming towards them on the road. Jaime recognized the tall figure in the distance right away. Rhae was too busy engaged in conversation with Willas and Jon to notice exactly who was approaching. 

“Hold up,” Jaime said, interrupting the animated conversation at his side. 

“What is it?” Rhae asked, stopping her horse next to his, followed by Jon and Willas. 

“Riders approaching. One of them is Ser Gregor Clegane,” Jaime told her. 

“No,” she said, stiffening in her saddle. 

“It’s alright,” Jaime told her. “I’ll approach them and make sure he takes a wide berth around us.” 

“You can’t. You’re not lord of the rock yet. He may well say no. Then what will you do?” she protested. 

“I’ll not have you face him,” Jaime argued. She had faced him two other times in her life since her mother’s murder and only because the encounters were unavoidable. In both instances she had spent the evening vomiting and had been unable to sleep for days. 

“Then we should take the wide berth,” Jon suggested. “I’ll go with her. We could pass through those trees to the right and stay behind the treeline until we pass him.” 

Jaime nodded. “Yes, go before he reaches us.” They weren’t going far ahead. He could easily reach them if they needed help. 

Jon and Bryna headed for the trees. The brush and branches weren’t too thick to pass through. It didn’t take them long to pass by the horses approaching on the road. Jon waited until they were well past the party and around a bend in the road before leading them out of the trees and back onto the empty road. 

Bryna immediately stopped her horse and dismounted. She clung to the saddle where she stood and would not turn to face him. Jon dismounted his horse and approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

“Did you see him?” he asked her, worried. 

“I tried not to look. I truly did,” she sniffled. 

“But you saw him anyhow.” 

“Yes. And all I can think about are the screams… from my mother...and baby Aegon...and those horrible hands covered in blood…”

“I can’t imagine seeing that, your own mother. How old were you?” 

“I was four,” she told him. “And I have hated him for sixteen years. Him and Lorch and King Robert.” 

Jon looked down at his feet. “I hadn’t thought of that. King Robert killed my father.” 

“He killed our father. You didn’t have to grow up as a bastard nor did I, if not for Robert.” 

“I suppose you’re right but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to commit treason or anything,” Jon said. 

“Neither am I but if the king died in some accident, I wouldn’t be sad about it.” 

Jaime and Willas came around the bend in the road just then followed by the rest of their party. 

“Are you alright?” Jaime asked Bryna as he approached. 

“I think I will be this time,” she said. 

***

Rhae awoke with a start and sat bolt upright. She didn’t have the nightmares so often anymore but the recent encounter with Gregor Clegane seemed to have brought them back for the last few days. She threw aside the covers and left her tent. She considered going to Willas tent just as she had considered doing the past few nights when the dreams came but she quickly decided against it. She would wait until the wedding to spend a night with him. It was the honorable thing to do. She walked in a circle around the smoldering campfire three times before making for Ser Jaime’s tent. He shared the tent with his squire now but she didn’t care if Jon Snow knew about her nightmares. 

She pushed aside the tent flap and slipped quietly into the tent. Jon Snow slept on a mat on the ground and Ser Jaime on a cot. There was a carpet rolled out between them and various bags of belongings throughout the tent. For a brief moment she wished she were small enough again that she could crawl beneath Ser Jaime’s bed and hide there. The moment passed and she pulled an extra blanket from the end of Jaime’s cot and curled up on the carpet to sleep. 

“Bryna?” Jaime’s voice woke her the next morning. “Rhae?” he tried again. “Did you have nightmares again?” 

She sat up from the floor and tried to make herself awake. Jon Snow was just waking up as well. “I did. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to sleep alone.” 

Jon Snow got up and left the tent without a word. 

Jaime let out a sigh. “What will I do once you are married and no longer need me?” 

She turned to face him, her eyes welling up with tears. “I will always need you, Ser. You have been a father to me all this time. And you have been my shield. If I could keep you from going east and have you stay with me at Highgarden, I would.”

Jaime was still hugging her when Jon Snow returned. 

***

The wedding at Highgarden went more smoothly than Jaime expected it would. Rhae was willing to let Olenna make most of the decisions regarding decorations and seating. Had she been unwilling to allow that, things might have been a lot more strained. The food was good, the music was pleasant, and the ceremony went as smoothly as it could have. It was afterwards when the dancing began that Jaime realized there was going to be a problem. Maegaery Tyrell approached Jon Snow for a dance. 

He truly felt bad that he hadn’t warned Jon in advance. It wasn’t that Jon couldn’t dance or that there was anything in particular wrong with Maergary. It was the fact that this quiet northern lad had absolutely no experience with bold southern girls. Would he even realize that Maergaery was just playing with him? She was only flirting and might not be serious at all and if she were serious, it might be for political reasons and not emotional ones. Jaime suffered through watching three dances before he approached the couple and made an excuse about needing the assistance of his squire. 

“What did you need help with?” Jon asked him once they were outside in the garden. 

“Nothing, I just wanted to warn you. Southern women are not like your Northern ladies. Maergary could easily be playing games with you. I hope you know that.” 

Jon just stared at him. “I’m not a complete idiot. I think I can handle a few dances at a wedding.” Jon turned and went back inside the castle. 

By the time he returned to the castle Jon Snow had returned to his dance partner. He might have watched the lad more closely had Tywin Lannister not been among the guests. Lord Tywin approached Jaime and he lost track of Jon. 

“While you were away you had a number of marriage offers,” Tywin said. “I imagine most of them are of no interest to you but one might be. Allyria of House Dayne.” 

“She is said to be a great beauty,” Jaime admitted. 

“Yes, and heir to House Dayne as well as sister to your friend Arthur.” 

“I suppose that is worth consideration,” Jaime said. He probably wouldn’t consider it for more than an hour but his father didn’t need to know that. 

Tywin’s expression betrayed the smallest hint of satisfaction. “Good.” 

Jaime turned his gaze to the dance floor once again. Jon Snow and the Tyrell girl were nowhere to be found.


	4. Chapter 4

Jaime agreed to stay a fortnight at Highgarden after the wedding but before the first week had ended several bits of news reached them. First of all they were saying that Danaerys Targaryen had married a Dothraki Khal and thereby acquired an army. Secondly was the news that Steffon Baratheon had somehow gotten into a fight with Bran Stark and thrown him out a window. All of this while Robert had gotten gravely injured on a hunt and might not survive. And thirdly, most disturbing to Jaime, was the fact that the widowed Lysa Tully was interested in a Lannister husband. 

“What are we going to do?” Rhae asked Jaime. They had all gathered in her solar, Rhae, Jaime, Jon and Willas. “If Daenerys Targaryen comes to Westeros what will we do?” 

“Well, she is the rightful queen,” Jon spoke up. “And it sounds like Robert Baratheon might be dying.” 

“House Tyrell will support a Targaryen queen. Are you sure neither of you want the throne for yourself?” Willas asked. 

“No,” Rhae said emphatically. 

“I don’t want it,” Jon agreed. 

“I’m glad the both of you are humble enough to reject the throne,” Jaime said unamused. “But we know nothing about Daenerys. She was raised in Essos and for all we know could be as Mad as her father. I doubt that it’s wise to have a queen we know nothing about.” 

“A queen always has a small council,” Willas reminded them. “Perhaps we could support her on the condition that the remaining Targaryens have a place on the council.” 

“We would have the Tyrells, the Martells, most likely the Starks and the Lannisters. The Tullys would follow the lead of house Stark. Which leaves the crownlands and the Vale...seven hells…” Jaime muttered, thinking of that marriage offer from Lysa. Marriage would be the simplest alliance here. 

“Seven hells?” Rhae asked him. 

“I was just realizing that marriage alliances are probably the best way to gain the loyalty we need,” Jaime explained. “Which might mean I’ll need to marry and so will you Jon Snow.” 

“I can’t,” Jon said immediately, then became suddenly uncomfortable. “If I did marry, I would dishonor someone else…” 

Jaime gave him a look. “Have you promised yourself to Margaery or merely slept with her? Because either instance can still be escaped.” 

“Neither one I just…”

“Jon, whatever my sister told you, it’s probably not entirely true. Father is working on her betrothal to Renly Baratheon,” Willas explained. 

“Then why did she..?” Jon began. 

“So that you would remember her fondly and should she ever need the help of the Hand of the king she need only ask his son.” 

“Right,” Jon let out a deflated sigh. “So who is it I’m supposed to marry to bring back House Targaryen?” 

“I don’t know,” Jaime said honestly. “I think we should go to Dorne.” 

***

Jaime briefly considered going to Casterly Rock and taking a Lannister ship to Dorne but it was too far out of the way to make that journey. Instead he went from Highgarden to Old Town and found a ship bound for Sunspear. Before leaving Old Town they learned that Robert had indeed died and that for reasons no one quite understood, Ned Stark had been arrested. 

Jaime and Jon continued their lessons in swordsmanship that they had begun just after leaving Winterfell. Ned had been right. The lad was good with a blade. 

In Dorne, Oberon Martell already suspected the truth about Bryna and agreed to lend his support to a Targaryen family dynasty if Elia's daughter was to be a part of it. They sent a letter to Rhae asking for Willas to reveal the truth to Tywinn and gain his support. Much to Jaime’s surprise, Tywin agreed to give it. 

In the meantime Jon Snow wanted to go to King's Landing to assist his Uncle and Cousins. Jaime argued against throwing himself into danger but Oberon offered to lend a ship for the journey so they boarded it and went. 

The capital was in chaos. Apparently Stark had made an accusation that Robert was not the father of Cersei’s children but that they were in fact fathered by a man named Kettleblack. This had resulted in his arrest. Brandon Stark had been sent home by ship just after his accident but apparently his sisters were still Cersei’s prisoners. Jon wanted to see them freed before he would consider continuing the journey to the Vale. 

They tried but they could not get anywhere near the Red Keep without revealing themselves. Jaime was ready to give up and head North. Without Robert as king, he was no longer under orders to be Warden of the east. In the meantime, they needed to get back to the Starks and tell them the truth of Jon’s parentage before Ned’s imprisonment turned into war. It would be a long journey and Jaime wanted to leave sooner rather than later. 

Then by chance Jon saw Sansa Stark as she was leaving the Sept. She was accompanied by Prince Steffon and the kingsguard and she had a recent bruise on her face. 

“We should just go,” Jaime said absently from where he stood a few feet behind Jon. “We’re not going to find them in so large a city.” 

“No Ser, look,” Jon pointed in the distance. 

Jaime looked just in time to see Ser Meryn Trant backhand Sansa in the face. Sandor Clegane offered the girl a handkerchief as soon as the prince turned his back. Jon had halfway drawn his sword and gone two yards in Sansa’s direction before Jaime could stop him from attacking the kingsguard. 

“What in seven hells do you think you’re doing?” Jaime told him. 

“She’s still my sister…” Jon said, overcome with anger and emotion. 

“Then we will follow them and find out where they are keeping her,” Jaime suggested. 

“They won’t let us in past the castle gates,” Jon argued, they had already tried. “I need to get her now before she leaves the garden.” 

“There will be a fight to free her,” Jaime pointed out.

“Against two kingsguard and maybe Prince Steffan if he has the courage to fight. I don’t fear them.” 

“You misunderstand. We can only have one fight and then we will be forced to flee the city,” Jaime explained. “If we rescue Sansa we will have to leave Ned and his other daughter behind.” 

Jon only thought about it for a moment. They didn’t have much time before Sansa left the garden. “Lord Stark would want us to help her. He would never forgive me if I saved him and left Sansa behind. And if Arya isn’t with Sansa then maybe she already ran away. Maybe she’s hiding somewhere.”

They quickly caught up to the Prince’s party. Saw Jon approaching and broke away from the group to throw her arms around him before anyone could truly react. 

“What is this?” Steffan sputtered. 

“We’re here to escort the lady home,” Jaime explained. 

“She’s not going anywhere!” Steffan said, angry. Meryn Trant drew his sword. Sandor Clegane stood stock still and didn’t move. 

Jon moved Sansa to stand behind him. 

“Are you going to help Clegane, or just stand there?” Trant asked, irritated that he was the only one armed. 

“If they threaten the safety of the prince, I’ll move,” Clegane said. It seemed clear that he was willing to let them take Sansa without a fight. 

Meryn Trant was unwilling to engage in a fight against Jaime Lannister and so the three of them were allowed to back away without any clashing of steel. Jon put Sansa on his horse at the edge of the garden and Jaime mounted his own horse and they fled the city. 

***

It was a long journey back to Winterfell. They learned from Sansa that Arya had indeed run away as soon as her father had been arrested. They also learned that Steffan had treated her cruelly for the space of two months since her father’s arrest and that she bore many bruises from his punishments. 

“Then I’m glad we stayed long enough to find you,” Jon said as they rode. Jaime rode a few yards ahead of them.

“I thank you for it but I’m sorry you couldn’t find the sister you were looking for,” Sansa said sadly. “I know how you cared for Arya,” the implication being that Sansa was aware she was not the favorite sister. 

“Sansa, that’s not true. We never understood each other. That’s all.” 

“That was my fault. I never tried to understand. I’m sorry.” 

“I hold no hard feelings. There’s something you should know,” he told her as they rode. “I learned the truth of who my mother is.” 

After he had explained to her the entire history of his birth and true parentage she turned to him a little in the saddle with a look of amazement on her face. “So that means you're my cousin?” 

“Aye.” 

“So I have been rescued by the rightful king of the seven kingdoms and the last of his kingsguards?” she said with awe. “It’s like something out of the songs.” 

“Well when you put it that way…” Jon gave her half a smile. 

***

Catlyn Stark was not at all happy to see them arrive. As with most travellers, someone among the smallfolk had seen them nearing Winterfell and sent word on ahead. Catlyn was waiting for them at the gates when they arrived. 

“What are you doing back here?” she said to Jon Snow. 

Jon looked at his feet, abashed by his Aunt as he ever was. 

“Mother?” Sansa took down her hood from the horse where she sat and Jon turned and helped her dismount. Sansa ran to her mother to hug her. 

“We came with news, and to offer assistance,” Jaime said. Ned’s older son was crossing the courtyard to greet Jon and Catlyn softened her stance. She kept her arm around Sansa. 

“Not that I don’t appreciate the return of my daughter but I can’t see what assistance I would need from you. It was your sister’s son who injured my Brandon,” Catlyn accused. 

“I don’t know anything about that,” Jaime said. “I wasn’t there and I have barely spoken to Cersei in sixteen years. The thing that I need to tell you is probably going to be disturbing. It would be best if we could sit.” 

Catlyn glared at him. “Tell me right here.” 

Fine, he would give her what she wanted right here. “Ned was never Jon Snow’s father. Rhaegar Tarrgaryen was and Lyanna Stark was his mother.” 

His words had a different effect on Catlyn than they had on Jon. There was disbelief, followed by understanding, then relief. “Robert would have killed him…” she said, making sense of it all. 

“Indeed,” Jaime agreed. “With Robert dead, and the Lannisters, Tyrells, and Martells are prepared to support a Targaryen family rule. Can we add the Starks to that alliance?” 

“Well I…” Catlyn glanced at Rob, now the lord of Winterfell. 

The young man nodded. “Yes, we’ll support Jon.” 

“Jon and Daenaerys and Rhaenys,” Jaime clarified. “She is alive. You know her as Bryna.” 

“You said you came to offer assistance,” Catlyn asked. 

“Yes. The Lannisters have my father to command them. The Tyrells have Mace, Martells have Oberon. I thought it unfair to leave the task here to Rob who has no experience in war.”

“I should think he would be grateful for your help.” Catlyn said. 

“Yes Ser, I would,” Rob agreed. 

“Well then,” Catlyn straightened her skirt a little. “Allow me to make some preparations for my new guests.” 

***

The Stark Bannermen began arriving just days after Rob called for them. Bannerwomen came as well from house Mormont. Maege and her daughters were trained warriors. They had been told that the youngest daughter Lyanna remained at home but the others, Dacey, Allysane, Jorelle, and Lyra, all seemed to be skilled with a sword. Maege and Allysane were a little scary in their own way and the other three were formidable. Somehow Jon found himself fighting against them in the practice yard one afternoon and Dacey knocked him off his feet with her strength and skill. He went next against Lyra, the youngest of the Mormonts who had joined them. She didn’t look like she was large or strong enough to beat any man in combat but she was fast. She soon pinned him against the castle wall, a sword at his throat and amusement in her eyes. 

Jaime went to Jon after Lyra had walked away. 

“What?” Jon asked, at the look Jaime was giving him. “She was good with a sword. I couldn’t help it.” 

“You were distracted because she’s pretty,” Jaime pointed out. 

“Maybe a little,” Jon admitted sheepishly. 

“Perhaps you should practice with her more often so you learn not to be distracted,” Jaime suggested. 

“Really?” Jon asked. “It’s not as if she’ll get uglier with more practice.”

“No but neither will you,” Jaime pointed out. 

“Are you saying that…?” 

“Yes, I think she was as distracted as you were.”

“But she beat me,” Jon supplied. 

“Not with skill. Not really. She did it by getting too close. You could easily do the same,” Jaime informed him. 

Jon and Lyra fought almost every day after that and their fights were far more flirting than actual fighting. Sometimes Jaime would watch with barely concealed amusement at the way their swords said everything that their words did not. 

“Do you think those two will marry?” Catlyn Stark came up alongside Jaime as he watched the practice yard. 

“They do seem rather invested in each other and have for days,” Jaime agreed. “But I’m not sure Jon has the confidence to actually talk to her and he doesn’t have a parent to arrange a betrothal.” 

“He has an Aunt. I could speak to Maege,” Catlyn said. 

“I didn’t think you liked Jon Snow very much,” Jaime pointed out. 

“I didn’t. Not when he was Ned’s bastard. If I could do something to make up for that now…” 

“He might rather have an apology than a betrothal.” 

“Did he say that?” Catlyn asked, stricken. 

“No. He hasn’t spoken of you at all.”

“I will speak to him,” Catlyn said with a sigh. “I will apologize and I will tell him what little I remember of Lyanna Stark.” 

***


	5. Chapter 5

After they had begun marching South, word came from Essos from Daenerys. She would consider sharing the rule under certain conditions. Her brother had died just weeks ago and now her husband was gone too. She had somehow hatched three baby dragons and would need to live in the South for their benefit. The dragonpit would need to be rebuilt. She would not marry but would agree to rule Westeros with Rhaenys and Jon as a triarch like it was done in Volantis.To do that, she needed a ship to bring her home. 

“I’ll offer my ship,” Lyra said as the council of lords stood around a table in a tent. “I would go and get her but I think it might be best if she were greeted by her family.” 

“I’ll go,” Jon offered immediately. 

“I don’t think so,” Maege Mormont spoke up. “I’ve seen you sparring with my daughter. You’re not going anywhere with her unless you go to the godswood and say your vows, both of you.” 

Jon looked as if he were both amused and embarrassed by Maege’s words. He glanced over at Lyra who only shrugged in response. “Aye,” Jon said agreeably. “We could do that.” 

“You agreed to that awfully easily,” Jaime told Jon aside after the meeting. 

“I figured I had to. Lyra might well be pregnant already,” Jon said truthfully. 

“From sparring?” 

“No not from sparring,” Jon said very seriously.

“What’s not from sparring?” Catlyn asked as she joined the two of them outside the tent. “Are you injured, Jon?” 

Her sudden concern confused him and the confusion showed on his face. “I’m fine Lady Stark.” 

“You don’t have to call me that anymore,” she told him. “You may call me Aunt if you like. Aunt Cat.” 

“If you wish, Aunt Cat,” Jon said uncomfortably. 

“I know we have had our differences and those were a result of me not treating you well. I wanted to apologize but I fear that it won’t be enough,” Cat said. “I did not treat you with kindness as a child and for that I am sorry.” 

“Was it only because of my mother or who you thought my mother was?” Jon asked, finally able to speak of this for the first time in his life. 

“Of course it was, that and the unfaithfulness of my husband. It was never anything you did or said. In all you were a good child. Better behaved than some of my own children. You would have never climbed the castle wall a second time had I told you not to. And your Mother Lyanna would have wanted better for you.” Catlyn brushed away her tears of regret. “I met her a few times. She was brave and strong and she was also kind. She protected the weak when she could. Had she lived she would have hated me for the treatment of her son. I know it and I must live with that.” 

“I thought you’d be angry that lord Stark didn’t tell you the truth,” Jon said after he had let her words sink in. 

“Gods yes, I am angry,” Catlyn admitted, emotion in her tone. “I am furious. But I don’t have time for anger. Ned is still a prisoner in the south and Arya is still missing and there isn’t room for me to be angry about a lie that my husband told to protect his only sister’s child.” 

Jon nodded his agreement, thankful that Lady Stark was trying to be reasonable. “I’m sorry that we couldn’t free Lord Stark when we found Sansa.” 

Catlyn nodded. “I’m just grateful to have Sansa back. She is safe now and she is free to help us in the effort to get Ned back.” 

Jon’s confusion about that statement must have shown on his face and Catlyn continued. 

“With a marriage alliance of course. We need the Stormlands on our side if we want to stop Cersei. I’ve already sent a message to Renly Baratheon.” Cat explained. 

“I heard the Tyrells were trying to arrange a Betrothal with Margaery,” Jon said. 

“I am aware, however they are also considering Trystanne Martell as well. Renly would declare himself king in Robert’s stead if no one stops him. So tomorrow I will go South to meet with him and try to come to some agreement.” 

“Does Sansa want to marry Renly?” Jon asked. 

“Sansa wants to do her duty for her house. I once did the same when I married Ned. It was his brother Brandon that I loved and at first Ned was my duty. I trust that Sansa will learn to care for her husband just as I did.” 

***

In the end, all of the Stark forces began to journey south. The Starks would not be swearing fealty to king Steffon. They would eventually march on Kingslanding and see Ned freed and the illegitimate heir deposed, or so they hoped. It was still unclear who the next king would be. The Starks continued to make a case for Jon to be king and though the Tyrells were willing to support him there was continued concern about the other Targaryen across the narrow sea. Could she be trusted? Would she truly share her power or should they crown Jon alone? 

Jon made it clear that he had no desire to be king. He would travel with them as far as White Harbor and then take a ship to Essos with his new wife. Lyra was indeed with child and had begun carrying her sword on her back instead of on her hip since the pregnancy made a sword belt uncomfortable. In the evenings as they travelled, the Starks and Jaime often sat around a campfire together. Bran had remained behind at Winterfell but Sansa travelled with them because Catlyn thought she should meet her potential new husband.

Late one evening Catlyn had gone to bed early and Jaime was somewhere else in the camp with Rob and SmallJon Umber. Lyra had drifted off to sleep at the fireside, leaving Jon and Sansa essentially alone. 

“The scouts said Renly’s camp is three days away,” Jon said almost absently. 

“I know,” Sansa picked at the folds in her dress anxiously. 

“Are you worried?” Jon asked her. 

“What if he doesn’t like me?” Sansa said. 

“I can’t see why he wouldn’t,” Jon said honestly. 

“Really?” 

“Sansa, you are kind, courteous, intelligent, and beautiful. Any man who doesn’t like you is a fool,” Jon told her honestly. 

Sansa blushed in response to that and her eyes filled with tears. “What if he is as cruel as Steffon?” 

“If he hurts you..I wouldn’t allow him to hurt you. I’d kill him first. I imagine Rob would help me if it came to that.” 

Sansa nodded and brushed the tears away from her eyes. Her hands were shaking. 

“You don’t want to marry him,” Jon said, it was not a question. 

“I will do my duty,” Sansa said simply. 

Of course she would. She already felt guilty that she was free and her father was not. Sansa would do her duty to house Stark and marry for the assistance of Bannermen that were needed to free her father. Jon glanced over at Lyra, a woman he had married because he cared for her and felt a moment of worry that Sansa might not get to experience being cared for. If anyone deserved a loving husband, she did. 

***

Renly was holding a tourney when they arrived at his camp. Catlyn managed to pull him away from his games long enough for an audience alone. 

“I know why you’re here,” Renly said, annoyed. “I’m not interested in any offers of marriage. I already explained that to the Tyrells.”

“You’ve named yourself king, as has your brother,” Cat pointed out. “Your brother has an heir though and you do not. It seems to me you’ll be needing a wife.” 

“It seems to me that you’ve been supporting a different king until now. The rumor is, Jon Snow is some sort of Targaryen in secret. Is that true?” 

“It’s true,” Cat admitted. 

“Then why would you marry your daughter to a different king than the one you support?” 

“Because we’re offering you a chance to support us. The north is already in agreement with the Westerlands, the Reach, the Riverlands, and Dorne. If you don’t join our alliance do you really think the Ironborn and Vale will come to your aid?” 

“How will you sway my brother to your side?” Renly asked. 

“He’ll be outnumbered but I have considered a marriage between Bran and Shireen should it be required,” Cat explained. 

“Well, I could always join you and forgo any weddings,” Renly shrugged. “I’m sure your daughter is lovely, but I fear I would make a terrible husband.” 

“And it will be terribly difficult for us to trust you if you have no family ties to anyone on our side,” Catlyn pointed out. 

Renly thought about her words for a moment. “Is she here, your daughter?” 

“She is here.” 

As soon as it was agreed to, the wedding between Renly and Sansa took place within just a few days. No sooner had the ceremony ended when a bird came from the south bearing a message of bad news. Ned Stark had been executed by the king. The wedding feast broke up. Rob very nearly broke his sword hacking at a tree. Jon went after him to stop him. Sansa began to cry and Catlyn went to her and put her arm around her while they both wept. 

Once everyone's shock had dissolved into silence, Cat finally spoke up. “It’s your wedding night…” she said quietly to Sansa. 

“And she will be given time to mourn,” Renly added. 

Sansa did retire to her husband’s tent eventually, but as promised, he did not touch her.


	6. Chapter 6

Jaime was thankful for a letter from Rhaenys. He read it three times just trying to find information between the lines telling him more details than what she had given. Was she worried about meeting her Aunt Danaerys? Was Olenna Tyrell overbearing every day? Was she going to have a child any time soon? Rhaenys addressed none of those things with her letter. 

“Is that from Bryna?” Catlyn Stark joined him at the fireside on the edge of Renly’s camp. 

“It is. She sounds as if she is very happy,” Jaime said. 

“And yet you seem sad about that. You miss her.” 

“Of course I miss her,” Jaime said, gazing into the fire. “In truth I feel rather useless without her.” 

“You’re hardly useless. You’ve been helpful in gaining us a strategy against the Capital. Though I can’t imagine it is easy to join a fight against your own sister. Were I to find myself at odds with my sister or brother in a potential war, I don’t know how I would face it.” 

“I do hope that we can outnumber my sister so thoroughly that she will have no choice but surrender and that there will be no bloodshed. That is how I face it, in the hope that she will survive,” Jaime said truthfully. 

“And if it doesn’t happen that way?” Catlyn asked, concerned. 

“I will follow Rhaenys lead.” 

Catlyn stared at him thoughtfully for a moment. “You still serve her,” she said with realization. “As a kingsguard. You didn’t just adopt an orphaned child out of guilt for Aerys, you meant to keep some part of your vows to the royal family, to protect the princess.” 

“For all the good it did. I am still called Kingslayer, am I not?” he said bitterly. 

“If you value honor, why did you kill the king in the first place?” Catlyn asked, then softened. “Forgive me if that sounded harsh. It is a question many people have wondered for years. Why kill him when Tywin was at the gates?” 

“The king ordered the city burned. He had stored up wildfire in tunnels all over the city and he ordered the pyromancers to set it alight. He ordered me to bring him my father’s head. So.. am I as honorless as everyone believes? Probably. I promised to protect the king and I did the very opposite. I promised to defend the weak and I kept that oath but in keeping one vow I broke another. There was no choice I could have made that would entirely save my honor.” 

“But you made the one that saved the most people,” Catlyn said, understanding. 

“Yes, people who mocked me for it afterwards. In truth, I don’t care about their mockery. It means nothing.” 

Catlyn watched him curiously a moment longer. “I don’t think that’s the truth, Ser. I think you do care, as well you should. Most people care about their reputation and it seems that most people are mistaken about yours.” 

“Well, there’s little to be done for it now,” Jaime said. “How are you faring anyhow, lady Stark?” It had been a week since they heard of Ned’s death. In a few days they would be packing up the camp and marching further South. 

“I’m alright. I’m looking forward to seeing my sister. If Lisa will lend us the aid of the Vale, I don’t see how we can lose and it will be good to see her again.” 

Jaime doubted that she was alright. He had seen the haggard exhausted look she had borne in recent days. Her husband’s death was still fresh and it was only thoughts of revenge that kept her going. “I had word that my own brother is coming this way. Perhaps you’d like an escort to the Vale?” 

“I thought you would go with Jon Snow to Essos?” 

Jaime shook his head. “I had best not. “Rhaenys has long ago forgiven me for killing Aerys but I doubt that Danearys will do so very quickly, if at all.” 

“I see. Well I won’t say no to an escort. The hill tribes in that area aren’t always friendly. And I thank you for the offer.” 

Jaime nodded. He was willing enough to escort lady Stark but he didn’t like letting Jon go alone. His duties still lay with the last Targaryens and it felt wrong to not go with him or back to Rhaenys. 

***

Sansa was grateful that her new husband was giving her time to mourn but in truth it worried her that he kept her so distant. Not only did Renly give her a tent of her own, he hardly spent more than five minutes with her each day. There was only a brief chat at breakfast and then he disappeared entirely or else was spotted walking the grounds with his former kingsguard, Ser Loras Tyrell. She tried especially hard on the sixth morning to engage him in conversation and Renly was simply not interested enough to stay for long. He was polite and then made some terrible excuse about checking on his horse before leaving her alone again. 

Jon wandered into her open tent. “Sansa, we’ll be leaving in a few hours and…” he stopped short on seeing she was seated at the breakfast table crying. “Are you alright?” 

She sniffled and nodded. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this but, you were wrong. My husband does not like me.” 

“Has he hurt you?” Jon stiffened his stance. 

“No, not at all. He simply ignores me entirely. I hardly exist. I suppose it could be much much worse. He could be ugly and gross or inclined to fits of temper or be crude or cruel. He isn’t any of those things. Quite the opposite really. He simply doesn’t like me.” She said. “I shouldn’t complain. I should be thankful it isn’t worse but...I had hoped…” 

“Sansa…” he said her name almost overcome with sadness. He had hoped for better for her as well. “Come here?” 

She got to her feet and accepted his hug and she cried. He knew she didn’t just cry about Renly. It was also about her father and her missing sister and about what Steffon had done to her and even about him leaving for Essos. 

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” she told him, confirming it. “Rob is going South and Mother is going to the Vale and we’re waiting here to meet with Stannis. Since Renly hardly speaks to me. I’ll be completely alone.” 

“There’s no one you can talk to?” 

“There’s Lady Briene of Tarth. She was named to Renly’s Kingsguard but since Renly is giving up his crown, mother asked if Briene could be my shield. I suppose she is alright. I just don’t really understand the sort of women who fight. I never have.” 

“She’s probably a lot like Arya.” 

Sansa gave him a look. “I never understood Arya either.” 

Jon placed a hand on Sansa’s shoulder. “I’ll be back in a few hours to say farewell. I have an idea.” 

Jon left her without explaining his idea. He set off to find Renly Baratheon. He simply wanted to find out if Renly was trying to give Sansa more time to mourn or if he was actually avoiding her. He did eventually find Renly in the woods outside of the camp. Renly was with Ser Loras Tyrell and the pair were holding hands. They let go as soon as they heard Jon approaching but it was too late, he had already seen and now it at least made sense. 

“Jon Snow,” Renly said when Jon had reached them. “Or is it Jon Targaryen?” 

“Snow is fine,” he said, a little more angry than he had intended. 

“Is something wrong?” Renly picked up on his tone right away. 

“Only that I just found Sansa crying in her tent,” Jon said. 

“Is she unwell?” Renly asked and he actually did sound concerned. 

“She is lonely. Her family is all leaving and her husband hardly speaks to her. Is there a reason for that?” Jon asked. 

Renly glanced briefly at Loras then back at Jon. “Is it really your place to concern yourself with your cousin’s marriage?” 

“Yes, When it falls to me to comfort her, it becomes my place.” 

“I don’t know what you expect me to say. Not all men are cut out to be good husbands,” Renly argued. “I tried to tell that to lady Stark when she arranged this. Of course I will try to improve but I can not change who I am.” 

Jon could almost guess what Renly was trying to say and was avoiding all in the same breath. He was implying that he had no love for women. Jon had heard of this happening on occasion but he had never met a man who preferred the company of men. How was it fair that sweet kind Sansa, a girl who dreamed of knights and romance, had gotten stuck with a man who might never prefer her? 

“What are you saying?” Jon asked, too angry not to face it. “Are you saying you married Sansa knowing that you wouldn’t be good for her?” 

“I did try to warn Lady Stark but she insisted,” Renly argued. 

Jon shook his head. “No, you could have run off. You and Loras here could have both run off and remained neutral until all this was over with. Instead you chose to marry one of the sweetest kindest young women I know and let her believe that there is something wrong with her, something that makes her unworthy of her husband’s time!” 

Renly just stared at him. “It sounds like you should have married her yourself. She is your cousin, isn’t she?” 

The words hit Jon harder than he had expected. He hadn’t realized until that moment that he didn’t really see Sansa as a sister. They had never been close until he helped her escape Kings Landing and he had not recognized his own feelings until it was too late. He was married to Lyra now. “I’m already married,” Jon said, making sense of his thoughts. “And I’m asking you, if you have any honor at all, that you will explain to Sansa that she is not the one at fault for your lack of interest. It’s not fair to let her believe she is. You might even try talking to her and including her in your life from time to time.” 

Jon didn’t wait for his reply. He was too angry to stay. He simply turned and walked away. 

***

After the Stark party had headed South, Renly went to Sansa to speak with her like Jon had asked of him. He sat down with her and he told her the truth, that he never cared for the love of women. She wasn’t as naive as he had expected her to be. She had heard that men who preferred men existed. She took the whole thing rather stoically and then she politely left for her own tent where for much of the night Renly could hear her crying. It wasn’t that she was sobbing loudly. She was actually rather silent about it but he waited outside the door of her tent, simply out of guilt for what he had put her through. 

After a while Ser Loras joined him and sat on the ground at his side. “This isn’t your fault,” Loras said. “You didn’t ask for this.” 

“I didn’t try very hard to escape it either,” Renly argued. “I may have very well ruined her chance at happiness. If she’s as loyal as the rest of the Starks she will remain alone and won’t consider taking a lover. We have each other and we’ve doomed Sansa. How is that fair?” 

“We could include her,” Loras suggested. 

Renly made a face. “Are you serious?” 

“I don’t prefer women but they’re not so bad. You don’t feel the same?” 

“I’ve never tried it. Never wanted to,” Renly admitted. “I take it you have?” 

“We had visitors from Dorne at Highgarden once. The man wanted to spend some time with me but only if his mistress could be included. I agreed for his sake and truly, it wasn’t so bad. It might even have been good.” 

“Even if I agreed to do it, Sansa is a Stark. She’s not going to want to be involved with the two of us. She’s going to want a traditional marriage with a husband and children.” 

“There could still be children,” Loras pointed out. 

“Yours or mine?” 

“Do you care?” Loras asked. 

“I suppose not,” Renly admitted. And it is better than allowing her to be lonely and childless. But how would we even tell Sansa? How would we propose such an idea?” 

“You could try going in there and offering her a hug,” Loras said. 

“I suppose I should,” Renly got to his feet and went slowly into Sansa’s tent. “Sansa?” 

Sansa sat up on her bed and the moonlight from the open tent flap shined down on her showing that she really was rather pretty as far as women were concerned. Renly went to her and sat down on the edge of the bed next to her. 

“You’ve been crying. Will you allow me to hug you?” Renly asked her. 

“But I thought…”

“It doesn’t mean I don’t care at all. I can still hug you, if you’ll let me.” 

Sansa leaned closer enough that he could hug her and she allowed a few more tears to fall while she wept. Once her tears had ended she pulled away from him, resigned to her fate once more. 

“I could stay the rest of the night if you like, and just sleep so you won’t have to be alone,” he offered. 

“I would like that… but what about...aren’t you usually with someone…?” She asked, uncomfortably. 

“Yes Ser Loras. He was the one who said I should come in here. Actually, he suggested that we include you.” 

“Include me? As in include me in…?” Her mouth remained agape as she made sense of his suggestion. “I thought only people in Dorne did things like that.” 

“Probably, but it doesn’t have to be limited to Dorne.” 

“I don’t think that’s something that...I wouldn’t know…” 

“Right. You are a maiden. I suppose that would be a bit much for the first time. How about for tonight I will simply sleep next to you and you won’t have to be alone?” 

“I would like that,” Sansa agreed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Sansa chapter because I go where the story takes me.
> 
> Also changed the rating because of this chapter.

Stannis Baratheon was not easily convinced to stand down but when he learned that his troops were outnumbered by most of the other kingdoms, even his red woman companion agreed that he was needed north of the wall, not here. Stannis expressed relief that he would not need to kill his brother and then he left to head north. 

Renly’s troops set off to follow the Stark men south. They were a few days behind but it wouldn’t matter much. They could still be of help as the rearguard. 

In the meantime, Renly often did not come to bed until several hours after dark but he did spend most of the night with Sansa. She did not ask where he had been earlier in the evening. She could guess though. She made no protest about his activities. Though she was not entirely comfortable with the state of her marriage, some part of her hoped that she could convince her husband to care for her anyway. So she remained silent and accepted his presence sleeping next to her at night. 

One night she dreamed of Meryn Trant striking her in the face, and of the way Prince Steffon had laughed at her bleeding lip. She awoke with a gasp and for some reason her first thought was a longing for a hug from her father, then she remembered that he was gone. She couldn’t really stop the tears but she bit her lip and tried to remain silent. 

“Sansa?” Renly said with concern at her side. 

“I had a nightmare,” she said. “I’m alright.” 

“What did you dream?” He asked her anyway. 

“It was just a memory of when Prince Steffon ordered me beaten and Meryn Trant struck me.” 

Renly sat up on one elbow. “The prince had you beaten? How often?” 

“A few times after my father was arrested.” 

“He had no right…” Renly said sadly. 

“He was my betrothed and he was the prince. By law he did have a right,” Sansa protested unhappily. 

“Then the law is wrong. I was master of laws. The law is wrong about many things. For one, no man should be allowed to harm his wife, not for any reason.” 

“You truly believe that?” She asked, a little surprised to hear this sentiment from any man. Of course lots of men wouldn’t resort to beating their wives but to say it should be against the law was a step further than many men would go. 

“I do. Sansa, I would never harm you. I hope you know that. I would protect you from anyone who might try.” 

She nodded in the darkness and realized he couldn’t see her reply. “Yes,” she whispered. 

“You may sleep closer if you like,” he offered. 

Sansa accepted his offer and slid over closer to him to sleep. He turned on his side and wrapped an arm around her, realizing that she might prefer that and it was at least something he could do to care for her. 

After that, as they traveled by day, Sansa rode alongside Renly and Loras and often with Brienne of Tarth. In a short time, she came to value their company and it seemed that they valued hers. In the space of a few days she learned a great deal about the childhood and interests of all three. After she became comfortable with them, Sansa engaged in their playful banter as they rode. 

A month into her marriage went by and Sansa had learned to care for Renly in her own way. He was kind to her and he made every effort to include her in his days. At night he was at least affectionate enough to offer hugs. She might have liked for him to offer more but was too afraid of rejection to ask for it. 

Then one evening a message came from Stannis Baratheon. It was sealed and Sansa was unsure if she should open her husband's message without his permission. She might have simply waited for Renly to return and open it himself except that the bloody fingerprint next to the seal had her concerned that the message was urgent. So Sansa set off looking for her husband. She found him as suspected in Loras’ tent but she dared not go in. The sounds from within stopped her still. She wasn’t entirely innocent of knowing what those sounds were. She had once seen a kitchen maid and stableboy at Winterfell in a state of passion. She had gone  
S to the kitchen for a lemoncake late at night and while she was still in the pantry the besotted couple had taken their activities to the kitchen. Unable to escape without revealing herself, Sansa had witnessed most of their encounter from the crack in the pantry door. She didn’t quite know what to do now. Should she wait until they were finished? Should she just walk in? Sansa looked down at the bloodstained letter in her hands. If her own brother had died, she would want to know. Gathering her courage, she called out her husband’s name. 

“Renly?” 

All went quiet in the tent. Moments later Renly pushed aside the tent flap and appeared in the doorway. He was shirtless and wrapped in a bedsheet. 

“I’m sorry. A letter came from your brother.” She held it up to show him. “There is blood on it. I thought…” 

He took it from her without a word and opened it, reading quickly. “Stannis is alright. He was in a battle with Wildlings it seems and injured. He says he’ll be alright.” 

Sansa nodded and took a step back. “Good, then I’ll just…” 

“You don’t have to go. You could come in.” 

“I don’t...I wouldn’t...And do what?” She managed to ask. 

“The same as any other wife. I just need a little help to make that happen. That might mean Loras would need to be there but if you could consider it, it might mean we could have children like any other couple,” he told her. 

“Loras would have to be there? Will it be dark?” She asked with concern. 

“As dark as you want it to be,” he told her. “Sansa, I like you. It’s not your fault that I am not made as other men. I think you are the sort of woman who wants to have children. I understand if you’re not ready to do so in such an untraditional way but it’s the only way I can offer.” 

She thought about his words for a moment and about the fact that she did want children and that she wanted more from him than just the hugs they shared at night. It had been a month and she had not yet stopped longing for something more for her future than a childless existence with a husband who was only her friend. This was a chance to change that even if it was not the way she might have imagined. 

“If I join you, will Loras...will Loras only be touching you?” She asked, not clear in how any of this worked. 

“Do you want him involved?” Renly asked. 

Sansa blushed at the question. She had once thought Ser Loras to be the handsomest knight she had ever seen. 

Renly raised an eyebrow at her blushing reaction. “You like him?” 

“I am married to you,” Sansa protested. 

“It’s not unfaithfulness if your husband permits it,” Renly reminded her. 

“I suppose not,” Sansa admitted. It was a strange thought. 

“I think Loras might want to be involved but neither of us would do anything without your permission.” 

“Alright,” she nodded. 

“Alright?” Renly said with surprise. Then he put his arm around her and brought her into the tent. “Sansa will be joining us.” 

In the dim candlelight Sansa saw Loras move over to one edge of the bed. “She can have the middle,” Loras said. 

Renly helped Sansa untie the laces down the back of her dress and remove it so she wore only her shift. Then she found herself in the center of the bed between the two men, her heart racing. Not from terror but from anticipation. She had never imagined herself doing anything so scandalous. Her mother would be horrified. And yet for reasons that she could not put into words, she found that she wanted to do this. 

Renly began by pulling Sansa into their usual hug on their sides that they shared when he went to sleep. The difference being that this time he was unclothed and this time Loras hugged her from behind, sandwiching her between them. The sensation was a bit overwhelming. More overwhelming was when Loras reached between them to stroke Renly, his hand brushing across her middle as he did so. Renly then moved close enough to kiss her neck and also rested his hand on her breast. 

She wasn’t sure which of them pulled off her shift and it wasn’t always clear in the darkness whose hands were caressing her body but she found it didn’t matter. It felt good to be touched like this. They were touching each other as much as they were touching her and when Renly eventually kissed her she all but melted. 

“You liked that?” He whispered at hearing the change in her breathing and her small noise of pleasure. 

“So did you,” Loras pointed out, ending his stroking. “Perhaps you should...you don’t have much time left…” 

Renly moved to position himself on top of Sansa and he kissed her again as he slowly and gently pushed himself inside her. She felt pressure but no pain. Then he began to move in and out of her and she gasped at the sensations he was bringing to her. Every movement was an increase in pleasure and she felt as if she were building towards something, something intangible but good. Then Renly groaned with one final thrust and went still on top of her. Sansa whimpered her disappointment without even intending to. 

“I’m sorry,” Renly said, at the sound she made as he pulled himself out of her and lay down at her side. “That was hardly fair.” 

“It doesn’t have to be unfair,” Loras said. “I could finish what you started. If that’s alright?” 

“That’s up to Sansa,” Renly said, tired and spent. 

“Yes,” she whispered in answer. She lacked the ability to care any longer about how scandalous it was. She only knew that her body wasn’t finished yet. She needed more. 

Loras pulled her close and kissed her and he placed his hand on her inner thigh. This time Renly reached over and stroked Loras but he didn’t really need help to be ready. He soon rolled onto his back and pulled Sansa astride him. She understood what to do without having to be told. Renly watched with half lidded eyes until Sansa and then Loras reached their peak. 

Sansa slept that night between her husband and his lover and found that she felt no guilt at her scandalous behavior. She simply felt at peace, content. As if sleeping between these two men was the right place to be. 

***

Sansa was alone in her tent when Rob came to see her. They had caught up with the Stark forces days ago and she and Rob had not spent much time together yet. 

“Come in, have some lunch,” Sansa offered her brother. 

“I’ve already eaten. I came because I’m worried about you,” Rob explained, uncomfortably. 

“About me? Why?” 

Rob sighed and took a seat at her table, accepting at least the offered glass of wine. “For the past three mornings, I came to see you and you were not here in your tent. You were not in your husband’s tent either. Both were empty.” 

“Oh,” Sansa said, her face flush at the memory of what she had been doing that morning. She had in fact not been doing much of anything except watching. Actually, she had been pretending to be asleep while Renly and Loras were awake and had barely concealed her breathless state. 

“Well, I was worried so I asked Brienne where you might be. She told me you were likely in Loras Tyrell’s tent with Renly.” Rob explained. “When I asked her why you would be there at such an early hour she could not give me an answer and became very uncomfortable for some reason.” 

“Seven hells…” Sansa muttered just under her breath. Of course Brienne knew the truth. She had suspected it a week ago and asked Sansa about it outright. Sansa had admitted the truth and Brienne had agreed to say nothing more on the matter. Now Rob was asking questions? 

“What is going on with you Sansa? It’s not like you to use such language? And now disappearing into a tent that isn’t yours? Is something wrong?” 

“No. No, everything is fine.” 

“Then why were you in Loras Tyrell’s tent?”

“I went there with my husband,” Sansa said, knowing it wasn’t much of an explanation. 

Rob rubbed his temple in frustration. “Yes, but why do you need to have early morning secret meetings with Loras Tyrell? If the Tyrells or the Baratheons are planning to leave our alliance, you can tell me. I won’t hold your husband’s decisions against you.” 

“No one is leaving the alliance,” Sansa protested. 

“Then what is going on?” 

“Something...more scandalous than the breaking of an alliance,” Sansa told him, her face flush. 

Rob only stared at her, having no idea what she was talking about. 

“If I tell you, you must vow to tell no one. Not even mother, especially not mother. No one, ever.” Sansa told him. 

“Fine, I vow to tell no one.” 

“Before we married, my husband did not care for the company of women,” Sansa said. “He really only cared for the company of his lover, Loras Tyrell. After the wedding, after a while, they invited me to join them.” 

“To join them? You mean...both of them? At the same time? And you agreed to this?” 

“I did,” she said simply, unsure if his disbelief was judgement or shock. 

“You’re always so proper. Your husband didn’t force you into this?” 

“No Rob, he didn’t. I agreed to it willingly and in truth they have been very good to me, both Renly and Loras. I’m not sorry.” 

“I would have never imagined…” he shook his head. 

“Does that mean you’re angry?” Sansa asked. She disliked the idea of his disapproval. 

“I’m confused,” her brother clarified. “But I doubt you could do much of anything that would make me angry.” 

His answer was acceptance enough for her.


End file.
